A Season to Believe

It's a lot.  That's the phrase I keep repeating.  It's a lot.

If you have seen any of my Facebook posts over the last few months you know that my sweet Mama (Nana) was diagnosed with leukemia in August.  Since then the world as we know it has changed.  If you've ever read this blog though, you know that this is not the first time that our family has experienced a life change.  Our sweet Logan introduced us to "You're not in control" about 7 years ago.

When Logan was born I think we were naive and still young enough that we did not feel overwhelmed like you might think.  We certainly felt overwhelmed, and maybe it's the benefit of hindsight at this point, but I didn't feel like we were carrying the weight of the world.  And my only experience with children and parenting were that things got easier as children grew up.  They began to do things on their own.  Become more independent.  And that meant easier in my mind.

What I would tell you now is very different though.  Very different than how I might have described my view of life back then.  And even what I thought life might be like in the years to come.

Growing up my family always went to church.  It wasn't just an important part of life, it was something that was intertwined in our lives because of the people.  We went to the church building every Sunday to fulfill what I would have probably described as our duties, or roles, as Christians. Because that's what you do.  You get dressed up, go to church on Sundays (and Sunday and Wednesday nights if you're a really good christian), read your Bible (to check it off of your to do list and because God says to do so), memorize the books of the Bible, pray for people, take meals to those in need and generally be a nice person.  Not that any of that is wrong, but as a child that would probably have been the extent of my grasp of being a christian.

When Logan was born my faith began to change.  It wasn't one moment in time or one experience, but it was the beginning of the change that is still happening.

A major part of that changing faith has been in the act of believing.  The ACT of believing which is more ACTive than I ever realized.  And believing requires an ACTive relationship with God that ironically puts me in situations that continue to test my faith.

When Logan was about 18 months old we asked anyone who was willing to, to BELIEVE with us. To BELIEVE for our little boy.  It was a deep down, heartfelt plea from a father who was doing the best thing he knew to do to take care of his family.  And it proved to be the best thing that could have been done to take care of his family.

Now I'm asking again.  This time for my Mama.  And I'm going out on a limb and asking if you could BELIEVE a whole lot that might cover us when we stumble into unbelief.

This is not my fight nor my journey exclusively, but just as Nana has been on our journey with Logan, we are all on this one with her.  Which is all fine and good, except that she's the one actually going through all of the pain and struggles and fears and triumphs.  She is the one who is on the front lines.  She is the one the doctors are talking about.  She is facing the monster.  She is the one making all of the decisions.  She is the one carrying the weight of it all.

This is likely more personal than she would ever be about all that is going on, so I hope she isn't too upset with me for sharing.  But this is how I process.  This is how I make sense of all that is going on in my world and how I try to make sense of the world around me.   And these days that is proving to be a struggle at times.

When Logan was diagnosed, faith sometimes seemed to come easy.  I seemed to keep my heart in the right place...most of the time.  And I seemed to be able to find some sort of humor in trying situations. It could be that the state of the world in which we live is intensifying the challenge for me this time or maybe it's just that I'm older, but now things seem harder.  And while I could stop there and just accept and deal with life being hard, I guess my nature has become such that that's not enough.  I simply will not accept that my description of life is that "It's so hard" and then I go on about my day.

What tends to complicate things a bit is that I'm quite a bit like my mama (those of you who know us well will get a chuckle out of that one).  My dad might use the phrase "carbon copy".  While I have shared quite a bit over the years about our journey with Logan, there were often times when it got too personal and I would back off.  There's only so much I can open up without feeling the need to protect, close off and retreat to a place where only God knows what is going on.  And I can't have anyone thinking that I can't do it all, handle it all and continue to take on more.  To some degree I get that from my mama.  We've got this.  We can handle this.  Our strong willed, stubborn nature takes over and we back down for no one.  And my natural response to an offer to help is, "We're good, but thank you!"

But this time...it's different.  This time we have resorted to saying things like "It sucks".  Period.  It just sucks.  And sometimes we are talking about Nana and sometimes we are talking about the ever changing life with a child like Logan.  Neither of which really get any easier.  There's no short walk to a beautiful sunset.  In fact, it often looks more like a long, treacherous path filled with landmines every step of the way.  And if we're not careful we see ourselves completely alone on this path. Left to navigate through a dark and dense forest of fear, heartache and frustration.  And when we let ourselves go there, it's hard to see anything good.  Hard to imagine any other way of life.

For me, that's when the promise of faith shows up.  But what I know as an adult that I didn't realize as a child is that faith alone doesn't change that path.  It doesn't change how dark and dreary and alone it can feel.  What it does do is remind us that when we are on that path, even though an evil whisper may try and convince us otherwise, faith reminds us that we are not alone.  Not for one moment are we alone.  And if we believe that simple message of faith, the path begins to change.  We are not immediately rerouted on our journey, nor do the challenges disappear, but things do change.  We start to notice things along the way.  People that God has placed on our path that are there for very important and specific reasons.  People that have their own journey, their own challenges.  Their own treacherous path.  And we have been placed along the way for them as well.

They are the Giant Hope that God has promised.  And He never fails to deliver.  But we often fail to see it through His love and His grace.  We would rather wallow in how hard life is for us.  Beg and plead for the circumstances to change so that we don't have to suffer.  Try and bargain with God about how to make things better..because we are experts at that.  Bu no matter how hard we try, the circumstances don't change.  In fact, in those times of pleading (or even ignoring God), it tends to get worse.

So why am I telling you all of this?  It's not all for you.  A lot of it is for me.  And while I don't have to make this public to work through all of the struggles I feel and the questions I try and answer, I am convinced that the only way God can use this for good is for me to share.  To share the good and the bad.  The hard and the great.  The tiny triumphs and the giant hope. This journey of my faith that, again and again leads me to amazing places of love and redemption.  A faith that introduces me to ordinary angels.  Allows me to see, sometimes for the first time, so very much good that is in the world.  Which sometimes can only be seen in the midst of the very, very bad that exists.

Tomorrow Nana checks back into the hospital.  She begins a regimen of chemo and radiation to completely break her system down to nothing.  On Saturday, I begin taking daily shots to increase my stem cell production.  And on Wednesday the 21st, I have the incredible honor of donating those stem cells to my Mama.

It's all scary.  Even with faith.  It's all overwhelming.  It's all a lot.  And it's all unknown...for us. The doctors are ready and have tested about everything to do with our blood and bodies that I think could be tested.  The nurses are ready...they do this so often that it becomes somewhat routine.  The pharmacists are brilliant and kind and know their drugs up one side and down the other.  And God is in the creating and healing and miracle business, so I'm pretty sure he's good.

Now we have to get ready.  Aside from packing bags and taking precaution meds.  Planning the logistics of child care and getting plenty of rest and fluids, we have to get ready.

That's where you come in.

So many people ask what they can do to help.  What they can do for Nana and what they can do for our family.

Well here it is.

You can believe.  With everything in your being, you can believe.  Enough for us too at times...believe.

Just believe that God is in complete control.  Believe that His plan is perfect.  Believe that He can use us for some incredible things at every step, even though we may never know it's happening.  Believe that Nana will be beautifully and completely healed.  Believe that we will get through the toughest days and the longest nights.  Believe that we will be awed and wowed at how God works along the way.

Pray big while believing big and believe big while praying big.  That's it.  With God's help and overwhelming love, we've got the rest.

It's a season to believe and with everything we've got, we're going to do just that.